


teach me gently, how to breathe

by bestliars



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, M/M, Minnesota Wild, Non-Sexual Kink, preslash?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonas does <i>not</i> have a good first game against the Blackhawks, but it’s gonna be alright, Ryan knows he can do better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	teach me gently, how to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in an au where it’s normal for rookies/younger players to kneel for veterans. This idea was started [here,](http://sinsense.dreamwidth.org/439102.html) and since then a few other people have written things, and I’m really hoping this just becomes a trope now. Get on it hockey fandom, let’s do it!
> 
> also, I tagged it Suter/Brodin after asking a few different people to read it blind, but it’s not sexual.
> 
> title is from "Shelter" by the XX

They lose game one against the Blackhawks, 5-2. Jonas has a real tough night. Ryan wishes he could have done better too, but Jonas did not have a good game by any stretch of the imagination. 

It wasn't a good game, but they're going to move past it. They've got a way of dealing with it. They'll be fine. 

Jonas isn't a rookie anymore, but he's still so young. Last season was short because of the lockout, just a weird situation. It isn't a problem that he still needs to kneel sometimes. He isn't the only second year player on the team who does. It's just a thing they do. 

It isn't about discipline, not exactly. Maybe it's discipline in the sense of playing a disciplined game, knowing where your stick is, making good choices. But with kids -- actual children, not young players -- sometimes you tell them to go sit in the corner and think about what they did wrong. That's not what this is. 

Jonas sat in the box and thought about what he did wrong twice tonight, watching as the Wild got scored on. Ryan’d bet he spent most of the game thinking about what he did wrong. That isn’t what he needs right now. This isn’t a timeout like a punishment, it’s a timeout like a coach might call after a goal against, to shift momentum and give everyone a chance to catch their breath. Ryan doesn’t want Jonas to think about what he did wrong, that wouldn’t help. Jonas needs to think about nothing for a while, and then he needs to start thinking about what he’s going to do right next game. It can be hard not to dwell on mistakes, but that’s why Ryan’s here to help.

Ryan doesn’t say anything to Jonas in the locker room. He sits back, takes care of his own shit. He watches as Scandi knocks Jonas’s shoulder, half listens as Jonas talks to the press. They don’t normally come to him with questions, but he has to explain himself after that game. It’s good to be held accountable for his mistakes; this is something Jonas has to learn how to handle. Answering questions is just another aspect of the game Jonas needs to master. He sounds uncomfortable, his English coming awkwardly like it does when he’s rattled, but he manages. Ryan’s proud of him.

Ryan’s on the first bus back to the hotel, and Jonas is on the second. Ryan sits next to Zach, their hands folded together on Zach’s knee. They head up to the room together. They change out of their game day suits into t-shirts and sleep pants, then lie down next to each other on the bed.

They don’t really have anything to say. Making it to the second round of the playoffs is good, but not enough. This series about against the Blackhawks isn’t going to be like last year’s series against the Blackhawks. This year they’re a better team, with more experience, more depth. They know this, talking about it is unnecessary, and talking about anything else would be a distraction. They can be quiet together. It’s nice really, being quiet with Zach, not quite cuddling, but kind of. It’s one of Ryan’s favorite things honestly.

They’ve been lying down for maybe fifteen minutes when there’s a knock on the door. Ryan leans over to kiss Zach on the cheek before he gets up. Jonas is standing in the hallway, not making eye contact. He’s already in pajamas, and has bare feet. Ryan wants to give him a hug, but that’s not what he needs, not right now.

"Do you want to come in and talk first? Or just..." Jonas is shaking his head before Ryan can finish the sentence. Ryan isn't surprised. "Okay, no talking, just let me grab my key."

Ryan finds the keycard to this room, and to the other one they're assigned underneath Zach's jacket on the dresser. Ryan sighs, but doesn't complain. Zach notices anyway. "Sorry babe.”

“It’s fine.” Ryan shouldn’t let little stuff bother him. Sharing space means compromise, and it’s worth it to be with Zach.

Zach gets up, wraps his arms around Ryan’s waist, says, “I might be asleep when you get back. Just in case, goodnight, I love you, etc."

"Yeah, I love you too," Ryan says, and kisses Zach. He really does too, even if he wishes Zach was neater sometimes. 

"I'm sure you'll do a good job with Brods," Zach says reassuringly. Ryan just nods. 

The other room is just down the hall. Jonas trails after him. Zach says that Jonas is like a duckling sometimes, that all the young defensemen are. Ryan can see it. He just wonders about how he became the mother hen? But this isn’t like that really, not tonight. 

The hotel room is like any other. It’s identical to the one Ryan just left, except it doesn’t have Zach and all their stuff in it. Ryan turns on the lamps instead of the overhead light. Jonas seems to sag, leaning against the wall while Ryan’s walking around the room. He grabs one of the pillows off the bed, and puts it down in front of the armchair in the corner, then sits down, settling in. Jonas will come to him when he’s ready.

It doesn’t take long. Jonas takes steady steps across the room, and is downright graceful getting to his knees. He gets comfortable, sitting on his feet, head hanging forward. He has excellent posture, and holds onto his hands behind his back. Ryan’s never asked if this is something Jonas decided to do on his own, or if it’s something someone taught him, but it works for them. He lets Jonas sit like that until his breathing gets even, then Ryan reaches out to rest his hand on the back of Jonas’s neck.

“Don’t think about the game,” Ryan says. “The game’s over, and we aren’t going to think about it. We’re gonna look forward to the next game, but right now just relax.” 

Jonas nods, barely moving his head, only enough to let Ryan know he understands. 

“Good. Think about your breathing, and relax.” Jonas inhales deeply, exhales slowly. “Good, that’s really good.”

They sit like this for a while. Ryan doesn’t know how long. He isn’t looking at the clock. Time’s going to pass how it does, and they’re going to do what they need to do. That’s all there is. 

At some point Ryan starts moving his hand through Jonas’s hair. It’s getting long, curling at the back of his neck, which doesn’t look bad. It’s still a little bit damp from his post game shower. Ryan cards his fingers through it, and Jonas presses back into his hand like a cat who wants to be petted. That’s a good sign.

In a minute Jonas is going to let go of his hands and grab onto Ryan’s ankle. He might put a hand on Ryan’s knee too, maybe, depending on what he wants. His shoulders won’t be as stiff, his pose will get less formal. It’s a sign that what Ryan’s doing is working. But until then Ryan will keep doing what he’s done so far, touching Jonas, letting him know that he isn’t alone.

It isn't long until Jonas is slumping forward, his head brushing Ryan’s knee, his hands free, one of them settling on Ryan’s ankle. Good. This is good. Ryan keeps touching Jonas’s hair, his face, continuing to be reassuring, glad that it’s working.

He should say something soon. He’s never sure what he should say. He knows he has to seem confident, authoritative even, but that’s all about tone, finding the right words themselves doesn’t come as easy. There isn’t a real guide here. Ryan can draw from past experiences, but in the end he’s just coming up with something and hoping it works. 

Ryan’s glad Jonas isn’t big on words either. They might not say a whole lot, but they manage to muddle through.

“I know you can play a better game than that,” Ryan says. “I could play better too,” he adds, honestly. It’s important to be honest. “I think we both wish we could have played better tonight, and I know we can both do better on Sunday.”

Jonas is holding onto Ryan’s ankle tightly, like he has to be holding onto something. Ryan wants to say the right thing that would make Jonas calm and confident and on top of his game going forward. The problem is that there’s no one right thing to say, and nothing he could say would be a cure-all. Jonas will probably keep struggling, like he has off and on since getting hurt this fall. Nothing Ryan has said up to this point has been able to fix that, so it stands to reason that nothing Ryan says now will be any more successful. 

That’s okay though. Ryan doesn’t need to fix Jonas, because Jonas isn’t broken. He’s just struggling right now. He’s twenty, that’s so young. He’s twenty, it makes sense that his play has been up and down. Last year Jonas was so solid, and so impressive, he looked like an exception to everything they say about young defensemen. This year he’s dealt with being hurt, being stuck wearing a bubble, switching partners back and forth, playing on the right and left, the disappointment of not making the Olympic team. He’s played a lot of real good hockey this year. Great hockey, and he’s just twenty years old. Jonas doesn’t need to be fixed, he just needs time.

Nothing Ryan can say is going to fix Jonas, which means all he can do is help Jonas feel better. Ryan knows that Jonas is going to be a great defenseman in this league, that he has the tools and talent, he just has to be patient with himself. Ryan has to make sure Jonas is focused on the good things that he’s doing, and the good things he can do, all of his potential greatness, not his mistakes. There are two reasons — The first is that being positive and confident helps in the game. The second is that Ryan wants the kid to be happy.

Jonas shouldn’t be beating himself up. Ryan didn’t have a great game either — they were on the ice together for Kane’s game winner, and yeah, it was Jonas that really got walked, that couldn’t have happened if Kane hadn’t gotten past Ryan first. They both need be better, and that means putting this behind them. Learning from your mistakes is important, but that’s what video review with the coaching staff is for. It’s important to carry the good things with you, not the bad.

“Jonas, look at me,” Ryan says. He’s let Jonas get away with avoiding his gaze so far, but that can’t last all night. Jonas tilts his head up. His eyes are wide, and so blue. Ryan pushes Jonas’s hair out of his face, and cups Jonas’s face in his hand. “You’re good at what you do. You’re a good defenseman. You’re young, and you’re still learning, and you can play better than this. I believe in you,” Ryan says, meaning every word.

Jonas takes in a deep breath, and exhales. He isn’t going to say anything. Ryan doesn’t expect him to.

They sit like that for a while, longer, with Ryan’s hand on the side of Jonas’s face, looking each other in the eye. It’s not a staring contest, they’re blinking normally, but they’re maintaining a connection, it’s good.

Ryan doesn’t think he has anything else to say. He’s said everything that matters. He can never really know if it’s helping or not with the on ice stuff, where there are too many variables to say whether or not this makes a difference, but Ryan feels confident that this was good for Jonas, and he knows they’ll both sleep better after this.

Eventually Jonas ducks away from Ryan’s gaze again, but he rests his head against Ryan’s knee, and that’s still good. Ryan moves his hand to the back of Jonas’s neck, rubs at the sore muscles. (Ryan’s sure Jonas is sore. By the second round of the playoffs everything is sore, but it’s worth it.)

“You doing good, kid?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah,” Jonas says, muffled, voice rough. “Better now.”

“That’s good. That’s really good. You’re going to be great.” 

“Okay,” Jonas says, as if agreeing will make it true. Ryan smiles at him. That’s the attitude to have.

Jonas yawns. 

“Okay, time for bed.” Tomorrow’s an important day of practice, a game the day after. They’ve had too many late nights, and that’s the truth, not just Ryan getting older. Ryan stands up, then holds out his hand to help Jonas up too.

Jonas gets to his feet easily, but seems a bit unsteady on them. Ryan takes hold of his other hand too, and leads him to the bed. Jonas sits down on the edge of it. He takes a deep breath. 

“Let me get you some water,” Ryan says, then takes a glass out of its neat hotel packaging and into the bathroom to fill up. He brings it back to Jonas, who takes a long drink. Ryan sits on the bed next to him, throws his arm over Jonas’s shoulder, enjoying how Jonas leans against him.

“Whatdya wanna do?” Ryan asks. “You can sleep in here if you wanna be alone, or go back to your room, or you can come back with me, Zach wouldn’t mind.” 

Jonas takes another drink of water and thinks about it. “Stay here. I want space.” 

“That sounds good,” Ryan says. “You have your phone for an alarm, right? And you should text Charlie so he knows you’re not coming back.” 

“Yeah, I will,” Jonas says, and rolls his eyes, like Ryan’s worrying too much, which might be true, but worry is a hard thing to turn on and off. Ryan’s always gonna worry a little bit. It’s just important to not let that get in the way of knowing that Jonas is a competent young adult who knows what he’s doing and can look out for himself — just because he can look out for himself it doesn’t mean he can’t use Ryan’s help. It’s important to find a balance.

“I’m tired, so I’m going to go back to my room, ok?” Ryan asks. He isn’t going to leave until he knows Jonas is settled for the night. 

“Stay for a minute?” Jonas asks. “Just a minute, then I’ll be good.” 

“Of course,” Ryan says. He’ll stay all night if Jonas needs him too, even though he’d rather go back to his own room to fall asleep next to Zach. But he’ll stay until Jonas doesn’t need him to be here.

Jonas gets up, freeing himself from Ryan’s arm. He sets the water on the nightstand and stretches. He really is...Ryan isn’t sure what word he wants, and is glad he doesn’t have to say anything. Jonas sure is something, beautiful maybe, but not quite fragile, nearly graceful, possibly strong, growing into himself before Ryan’s eyes. Jonas is all willowy limbs. He's not that much lighter than Ryan, but gives the impression of being a fair bit more delicate. He must be stiff from sitting still like that so long; Ryan kind of is himself, and his position was much more comfortable. 

Done stretching, Jonas tucks himself under the covers. Ryan lies down next to him. It isn’t that comfortable, there’s only one pillow, the other still on the floor. It’s nice though: Jonas’s steady breathing, the quiet room, peaceful. When Ryan gets back to his own bed he’ll fall straight asleep. 

“I’m good now,” Jonas says. “Half asleep really. I’ll be fine.” 

“Good,” Ryan says, trying to sound definitive. Jonas is good now. Or at least better. That’s good. Ryan’s done everything he has to. He leans over to kiss Jonas on the cheek before getting up. Jonas really is half asleep, and doesn’t react much, just smiles and mutters, “Goodnight.”

Ryan gets up and leaves. The hallway is empty. He goes back to the room he’s sharing with Zach, where the lights are already off. He finds his way to the bed in the dark, then gets under the covers. Zach isn’t very awake, but he reaches for Ryan groggily. Ryan cuddles closer and closes his eyes. He isn’t going to think about the last game, he isn’t going to think about what he did wrong. He’s going to think about the next game, and what he can do better. Right now he's going to think about nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> since about November I’ve really wanted the story where someone pets Brodin’s hair and tells him he’s great. Last night I finally wrote it. In text messages to my girlfriend between one and five-thirty in the morning. Partially while lying on the floor. I have a lot of feelings about Jonas Brodin. In a totally reasonable way. (I just want someone to feed him soup.) (I’m normal.) (SHUT UP.)


End file.
